The Baby Bomb
by hcr6601
Summary: Tris becomes pregnant, but not by Tobias. Her troubled past will bring him and the gang to her, and they'll be there to support the child and Tris' budding romance.
1. Chapter 1

I drop the test on the floor and look at myself in the mirror, still sitting on the floor. There is no way this is happening.

About three months ago, I was taken to an alley after walking out of the grocery store, and beaten before being raped. My psychiatrist said noticed a sudden mood change and often random mood swings from me. Aside from that, I was supposed to have my period two weeks ago. My period is never late, nor have I ever skipped one but once in my early teen years. He suggested I get a pregnancy test, which I did since he tends to give the best advice of anyone in my life. My mother is dead; she was killed in a car crash when I was fifteen. My dad was never really there for me anyway, especially after the crash. From then on my father was forced to be my primary caretaker, not that it mattered to him. I had to go into the foster system when he got put in jail when I was sixteen. When my mother died he'd become an alcoholic. It was a downward spiral from there, he started driving and going to work drunk. One time he hit somebody while driving drunk and was arrested. Luckily that person didn't die, so he was only jailed for a few years. And the only person that knows he used to beat me when drunk is my psychiatrist. Anyway, I only had to be in the foster parent situation until I was eighteen or until he was released. I chose to be in a home until I was eighteen. He tried to contact me when he was released, two years ago, but I declined every call. When he followed me to my penthouse, I called the police. Now I have a restraining order so he can't be within five hundred feet of me. At the court when I was getting the restraining order, I'd told him to get far away from me and never come back. I heard that he moved to some other state without telling anybody. They'd only guessed he moved because he had boxes one day, and left without coming back. To be honest, I wish he'd kill himself. He royally fucked up my childhood, which lead to a royally fucked up life.

I look down at the positive test, and will it to change. Nothing happens. I hate that I don't know who did this to me. I hate that there won't be anyone there for me when I am forced to give birth since I'm not cruel enough to get an abortion. I hate that I'll be stuck with a criminal's child. I'll be stuck with the child of someone who made me consider suicide. I'll be stuck with it because I know how horrible it is to know that your parent didn't want you or care for you.

The only thing I know to do is to go to Dr. Eaton, my psychiatrist. He gave me his address quite a while ago when I was still having panic attacks. I think I might have one now. Several times I have tried to get to him while I was having panic attacks, and it never ends well, so I choose to stay here this time, at least until I calm down. I am now twenty-two, so I've had around four years to figure out life on my own. This includes cooking, cleaning, and budgeting. I head to the kitchen and get out the cutting board, a knife, and vegetables. Turning on the kitchen TV, I wash the vegetables in the sink and watch the news. I cut the vegetables as I listen to everything currently happening in New York, mainly Manhattan, where I live. My apartment is in the upper left side of Manhattan, in the Riverside South neighborhood. It overlooks the Hudson River and Riverside Park. The luxury penthouse is more than I need, but I have so much money I don't know what to do with it. A good portion goes to the rent and Dr. Eaton, and a little less to groceries. Groceries don't cost much since I'm the only one living here and I eat like a bird. My regular doctor says that's because when I was depressed my stomach shrunk from my barely eating.

I finish cutting the vegetables and grab the lettuce from the fridge and a bowl from a cabinet. Throwing everything together, I put the lid on the bowl and shake it a little to be sure it is fully mixed. Then I fill a bottle with water and set it on the counter next to the salad. My acrylic nails tap the counter as I try to figure out what to do. I need to speak with Dr. Eaton, but I'd rather not go to his house and risk having another episode in public. I decide to call him and invite him here. Maybe we could talk over dinner. Dialing his number, I think about what I'll make if he comes. Maybe spaghetti, or chicken breast and some vegetable.

"Dr. Eaton speaking," he answers, and I hear noise in the background.

"Hi Dr. Eaton, it's me, Beatrice Prior."

"Oh, hi Beatrice. Did you get a test?" He asks, quieting a little.

"Yes, I did," I try to think whether I want to tell him over the phone or not, deciding not. "Would you mind coming over for dinner? I can prepare something."

"I'd love to, but tonight is the night my son and I usually spend together since most nights he works right now."

"Oh well, he could come too."

"Alright, I'll check with him, just a moment…ok, we'll be over in about twenty minutes."

"I'll be making dinner so you can let yourself in." He agrees and we say our goodbyes. As soon as I hang up I realize that I didn't check with him to see what he wants. I guess I'll have to wait till they get here to ask and start cooking.

I walk over to the window that surrounds my grand piano, looking out over Manhattan and the Hudson River. It is a beautiful view that I wouldn't trade for anything, at least at this point in my life. I decide to play piano, in hopes it will help me forget, or at least calm down…it is pretty hard to forget you're pregnant…with a rapist's kid, especially. Sitting down on the bench, I look through all the sheet music sitting on the piano top. It doesn't take long for me to pick the song Clocks by Coldplay. My fingers caress the smooth, white and black keys, enjoying the feeling. Playing piano and guitar always helps when I'm stressed. I finish the song and hear somebody clear their throat behind me, making me jump. I turn around and find Dr. Eaton and-who I'm guessing is-his son next to him. I take a deep breath and stand up to go greet them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sorry, I, uh…" I gesture to the piano at a loss for words, "it helps me calm down."

"It's no problem; that was actually beautiful playing. I didn't know that was one of your outlets." Dr. Eaton says, still standing just two feet from the door. "This is my son, he goes by Tobias." He says, pointing to the man next to him. I quickly look over Tobias and find no similarities between the two. I suppose they could've had the same hair since Dr. Eaton's is now grey and Tobias' is dark. I remember him telling me his wife died in childbirth with their second child, whom also died. Tobias was seven when he lost his mother. Luckily Dr. Eaton was able to pull it together and be a good father and single parent to Tobias, unlike my father. "Tobias, this is one of my patients, Beatrice."

"You can call me Tris. That's what my friends used to call me." I give a small smile and put my hands down to my sides. Realizing I'm still in my work clothes-a pencil skirt and sheer pink button up shirt-I decide to see what they want and start it before changing into some more casual clothes. "So what do you guys want for dinner? I can make just about anything."

"Whatever works best for you is fine with us."

"How about chicken breast with salad and corn? I already made and salad and it's one of the meals my mother used to make when we had dinner company." Dr. Eaton nods and walks toward the kitchen. "You can make yourself at home; I'll turn on the TV." I head into the living room and turn on the TV, handing him the remote. He thanks me and sits down on the couch, Tobias still standing in the foyer. I give him a small smile before going to my bedroom and changing clothes. I pick a pair of black PINK brand fold over yoga leggings and a sweater with the word PINK across it the chest in sparkly silver letters. My feet are cold, now out of the black pumps, as always, so I pull on some pink with black polka dot fuzzy socks of the same brand as the rest of my outfit. I head into the connected bathroom and take a look at myself. I put on mascara and lipstick this morning, so I leave the makeup be. My hair is still in the big curls I put it in this morning. I finally approve the look and head back into the kitchen. I start by getting out two cans of corn and a sauce pan. Turning the stove up to medium heat, I drain both cans and dump them into the now warmed sauce pan. I grab the chicken breast from the fridge; it's a good thing I thought to put it there this morning so it could thaw. On the balcony, I start the gas grill and set the chicken breast package on the side. A few snowflakes fall on my eyelashes and sweater as I put the meat onto the grill. I close the grill and walk back inside. The corn simmers as I stir it before grabbing a plate and fork, and heading back onto the deck to tend to the meat.

I work on the chicken breasts for a while, forgetting about the corn until I am taking the meat off the grill. Gasping, I drop the meat onto the plate and run back inside with it, only to stop in the doorway. Tobias stands over the stove, stirring the corn. I almost smile at the big muscled man doing such a small and normal task. The thought that maybe one day I'll have a husband and this will be a regular sight nearly brings me to tears. The thing that stops them is the realization that nobody will want to be with the girl that has nightmares and a child because of one bad day in her life. Nobody will want the girl that is mostly skin and bone and eats like a bird. Not one guy will want the girl that has so much horrible baggage that she can't manage to get through a week without having around four panic and/or anxiety attacks and has to see a psychiatrist three times weekly, sometimes more. I sigh and set the chicken on the counter before joining Tobias at the stove and smiling at him.

"What are you smiling at me like that for?"

"It's just odd to see you like this-bent over the stove cooking. I didn't imagine you as that type."

"Well when I realized you were neglecting the corn I thought I might as well help. I mean, you don't really want me here do you? You called my father because he is your psychiatrist I'm guessing?" I nod and he continues, "You wanted to speak with him and his stubbornness about him and I always having our dinner night got in the way of that. I am causing you to not be able to speak with my father about whatever is troubling you. To be honest I don't know what the problem with you is; you seem completely normal to me. In fact, on the way over here I was expecting to see some slightly crazy person. That's who I imagine my father treats every day."

"Well I'm flattered at the fact that you think I'm normal," I say, chuckling a little, "but I see your father at least three times a week-usually more-because some pretty shitty things have happened in my life that screwed me over. How I manage to look normal and keep my job is beyond me." What he says next leaves me taken aback.

"I would love to know what screwed you over so horribly sometime, but I'm not going to force you to tell me." The realization that I can detect a bit of anger in his voice and movements as he says this, along with the fact that he refuses to look me in the eye and it makes me curious.

"Maybe sometime I'll tell you. For now, you can put the corn," I set a bowl down on the counter by the stove, "in here, if you don't mind." I smile again, quickly, before turning around and setting the small kitchen table. I can feel his eyes on me as I put out plates, napkins, and silverware, but ignore it. Eventually the feeling leaves and I turn around to find him dumping the corn into the bowl. He shakes the pot and struggles to get the few last pieces of corn off the sides, so I walk over and put my hand over his on the handle, causing him to stop shaking it and look to me. I continue to ignore him watching me and scrape the excess out with the wooden spoon we used to stir. Putting the wooden spoon in the bowl, I carefully remove his hand from the handle and drop it by his side before turning to the island and rinsing the sauce pan. When I've finished, I put the pan into the dishwasher and carry the bowl of corn and plate of meat over to the table.

"You can have a seat," I say, turning toward Tobias and gesturing to the table. He doesn't move so I walk over to the couch in the living room and invite Dr. Eaton to have a seat. Turning back to the table, I find that Tobias has seated himself so that he can see outside. I desperately hope that Dr. Eaton takes the seat where Tobias is looking so I don't have to be the one to spoil the view for him. Or be the one that he stares at with the lack of anything else. Of course, with my luck Dr. Eaton takes the seat I was hoping to have, so I am forced to sit across from Tobias. I take a seat and he quickly turns his head down, and stares at his plate.

Dinner goes by excruciatingly slow and painful. When we're done, I thank god that I won't have to sit here and make small talk for another millennium.

"So, Dr. Eaton, as you suggested, I got the test. I am pregnant." I bite my lip and a single tear slips out.

"Oh, Beatrice, it's alright. You'll be a wonderful mother." This statement leaves me outraged.

"No, I won't," tears still escape as my weak voice carries on, "you know me. You know personally what has happened to me and that I am not at all capable of being a good parent to this child. In fact, if anything this child will grow to take care of me. I don't want my family to be repeated with this kid, no one else deserves that kind of shitty childhood." My small tears turn to sobs as I look at the not phased Dr. Eaton, awaiting a response. Out of my peripheral vision, I see Tobias looking between the two of us, probably wondering what the hell is going on. I doubt he has any idea what goes on at his father's work on a daily basis.

"Beatrice, you will make a wonderful mother, and I'm sure that sometime you'll find the guy that is perfect to be a good father to the child too. You know how I know? You're not your father. You're you, and you're an attractive, successful, smart, young woman. Although, the one thing I think you'll need to find during the first little bit of your pregnancy is a friend. It could be another pregnant woman, who would probably be very helpful, or any friend. You'll definitely need someone to take care of you. You'll be having cravings, fatigue, morning sickness, nausea, etc. Also, it'll have to be someone stable because you'll be having quite often mood swings." I chuckle a little and he gives me a small smile.

"Thank you, Dr. Eaton, but I hope you don't mind me asking, how do you know all this?"

"Well I did some research when my wife was pregnant with Tobias, here." I look to Tobias, having mostly forgotten he was here. His head is down and I know this has got to be awkward for him. "Also, I observed a lot of it in her, so…" he trails off, also putting his head down.

"Thank you very much. Well, how about dessert? I can make my mom's recipe for apple pie. Tobias' head tilts up to look at his father, who does the same, and nods vigorously. "Great, and I'll turn on the kitchen TV so you can watch it in here while I make the pie. I click on the TV which is still on the news channel. "Is there any certain channel you'd like to watch?"

"The news is fine, thank you." I give a smile and look up to the TV as I start preparing the sugary dessert I'll end up sending home with them since I rarely eat dessert, let alone regular meals. I suppose I'll probably start eating more now since I'm pregnant.

I finish making the pie and put it in the oven, setting the timer for forty minutes. Turning back to the TV, I have a seat in one of the barstools. The news switches from talking about stocks to the weather. In fact, the reason it switched was that there is a travel ban being placed. My face changes to one of shock and I walk over to the window and peek through the curtains I pulled shut earlier. Snow covers everything in a thick blanket, and I am confused as to how it got here from a few snowflakes when I was grilling the chicken only a couple hours ago. I turn around, biting my lip.

"Well, seeing as there is a travel ban and you live nearly half an hour away, would you guys like to stay the night? I have an extra bedroom that never gets used and the couch and loveseats are pullout beds. One of you could take the guest bed and the other mine and I could sleep on the pullout couch."

"Thank you, I don't think we have much of a choice, not that I wouldn't love to stay over. And no that is quite unnecessary, I'll take the couch and you two can have the beds. Besides, you'll have to start sleeping in a certain position and you'll want to get used to it. I'm sure you won't want to be uncomfortable either." Dr. Eaton finishes and smiles, signaling that his point has been made and that the conversation is over.

"If you insist." I smile back and look over to Tobias, who is texting someone. He looks up at me and turns away for a second before turning back.

"I hate to ask, but would you mind if a few of my friends stayed here for now? They were about to leave for home when the travel ban was placed, so now they're stuck here and with nowhere to stay."

"Of course, it's no trouble. I'd love to have them." He smiles and thanks me before looking back to his phone and typing again. Dr. Eaton gives me a worried look, he's thinking about my social anxiety, and how it's probably going to get worse. I just found out I'm pregnant, but somehow, I feel as though people can see the fetus right through my skin. I feel as though the words "pregnant rape victim" are branded on my forehead. Taking a few deep breaths, I give Dr. Eaton a reassuring smile. Maybe this will be good for me; it's like getting out and meeting people but without the getting out part.

I realize that one apple pie probably won't be enough to feed a small group of people, even for one meal, and decide to make a chocolate cake. If I had the ingredients, I would make another apple pie, but I rarely make such things, and therefore do not have the ingredients for multiple of them at any given time. I keep enough for one batch or one of each thing since sometimes I randomly decide that I want to make one of the things my mother used to, which both of these are. Usually, I do it for no reason other than the memories because I obviously can't eat more than a slice without being extremely full for a while. Once the cake batter is finished and I've poured the batter into a pan, I take a seat at a barstool and scroll through my phone. Tons of pictures of my old high school friends getting married and pregnant litter my social media feed. The only difference between me and them is that they mean to be pregnant, and probably not by a rapist, or at least they're happy about it. A knock sounds on the door milliseconds after the oven dings. I quickly hop down from the barstool and switch the apple pie for the chocolate cake in the oven, then dash over to the door and open it, throwing a fake smile on. At the door stands a group of about seven people. In front is a girl with mocha colored skin and short dark hair, a few inches taller than me. My eyes scan over the whole group and find that all of them are taller than me, increasing the heavy feeling in my chest.

"Um, sorry, is Tobias here?" The mocha-colored one asks, her voice a little louder than I'd anticipated, leaving me slightly startled.

"Yeah, guys, I'm in here," Tobias' deep voice startles me more behind me, and my hands start shaking.


	3. Chapter 3

"I'm Tris, come in," I say, my voice wavering ever-so slightly. They file in, all of them heading straight for the kitchen, where Tobias leads them. I close the door behind them and dash into the kitchen. The apple pie sits, steaming, on the counter. A few murmurs come from the group about how nice the penthouse in, and they all explore for themselves. A gasp escapes me as I remember the pregnancy test still on the floor of the main bathroom. I speed-walk over and throw it in the trash before reentering the main living area. Nobody seems to have noticed me, as they're all occupied searching drawers and cabinets. Tobias gives me a sort of apologetic look and I walk over to him.

"So how do you know all these people?" I try to make conversation to ease the feeling in my chest that makes my voice come out strained.

"Well, I've known Zeke and Uriah," he points to two similar looking, dark-skinned boys, brothers I'm guessing, "since preschool. Their mom ran the daycare I went to and that's where they were all the time. We ended up being together all through high school except Uriah was a grade behind and is two years younger than Zeke and I." I nod in understanding so he knows to continue. "And I met Will," a shaggy blonde with celery green eyes stands across the room, admiring the view from the window behind my piano, "in college, we played football together and he was in the same fraternity as Zeke and I. Somehow we came to like him, probably because he could help us with any of our homework." We both chuckle, and I find that the feeling in my chest has subsided tremendously. Part of me wonders if it is the doing of this dark-blue-eyed boy, and the other part already knows it is. He points to the same mocha-skinned girl with dark hair I spoke with earlier, "And that's Christina, who basically forced her way into the group. She used to constantly flirt with Will until we finally told him she liked him. He may be book smart, but he's definitely not girl smart. And beware, Christina is overly-talkative. Don't call her unless you want to be on the phone for hours." He points to the other girl, with long brown hair and wild eyes that scope everything in the room as if it were a playground, "That's Uriah's soon-to-be girlfriend Marlene. They've been making googly-eyes at each other since sophomore year of college, and both are too chicken to make a move." Next, he points to a girl standing next to Zeke with short brown hair. "And last but not least, Shauna. She and Zeke have been in the same situation as Marlene and Uriah for about a year. Zeke and I both majored in nursing at NYU and Shauna went to Columbia, but somehow we all ended up working in the same hospital. They met during our first few days and she's become friends with Christina and Marlene, so she's part of the group now too. Oh yeah, and she has a younger sister, Lynn, who's in the same grad class as Uriah and Marlene. She hangs out with us sometimes but she's not really social." She sounds like me.

"Wow, looks like you've got quite the gang there. So what hospital do you work at?" I decide to resume small talk.

"Lenox Hill Hospital, why?"

"Well, that just so happens to be the hospital where I just accepted a job offer," I say, not quite proudly, but almost.

"Oh, really? Are you a nurse, too?" He asks this with a kind of excitement and for a moment I wish I were, as that would mean I would probably get to be around him. I find myself growing in affection for this boy.

"Actually, no, I'm mainly a cardiologist, but I'm also practicing in anesthesiology currently." I finish and look up to find him look down at me in astonishment. This is a look I've become accustomed to when people ask my profession, but I usually don't enjoy the look like I am right now. Something about this boy has got me going crazy.

I served everyone a piece of apple pie and cut the smallest of slivers for myself. I've barely gotten to the crust when the oven dings, signaling that it's time to get out the chocolate cake. Grabbing my oven mitts, I extract the cake and set the timer yet again so the cake has time to cool before I ice it. In the cabinet, I search a little until I find a little container of chocolate icing, and set it down next to the stove. I sit down on the barstool and start cutting up the remaining pie on my plate, buying myself more time before I delve back into the dessert.

"Tris," Uriah starts, his mouth full, "whatever your job is, you need to quit it and open a bakery." The others mumble in assent and I giggle.

"What is your job anyway? You can afford this nice place and you've got tons of clothing and shoes, I looked in your closet earlier when we were all snooping," Christina inquires.

"Tris is actually going to be working at the same hospital as Shauna, Zeke, and I. She's a cardiologist and is also studying anesthesiology." Eyebrows rise to this and put my head down, attempting to forget that all attention is on me now. Tobias either realizes that I'm uncomfortable, or just likes to talk, as he speaks again. "She makes Zeke and I look bad," he chuckles. I let out a light laugh that dies before it's escaped my mouth completely. My curiosity gets the best of me and I begin to wonder why he didn't say Shauna too, just Zeke and himself. I wonder if he has thing for her. My heart sinks and regret fills the empty space my heart left behind. I should never have had them over. I should have waited for another night or my appointment to speak with Dr. Eaton. Now I'm becoming attached.

Hours later, Dr. Eaton has given in and gone to sleep in the guest bedroom. The rest of us sit in the kitchen, casually sipping wine, which I had to miss out on, or taking the occasionally bite of chocolate cake, which I also did not partake in. This lack of food or drink to nonchalantly refer to when things got quiet left me an awkward outcast. We'd made conversation about work and heard several college stories all through the evening, and were beginning to run out of things to talk about. Nobody has asked why I'm not eating or drinking like them, so I figure I should walk away while I'm still good, and while they're still only mildly buzzed. I force a yawn and hop down from my perch on the barstool.

"I think I'll set up your guys' beds and retire to my own for the night. Anything I can do for you before I go?" I ask the question almost timidly, hoping they say no. They look amongst each other, none of them seeming to need anything. I silently thank the lord for that. "Alright, well goodnight." I give a smile and turn, walking toward the living room. When I begin pulling pillows away from the main couch, I see Tobias walking over out of the corner of my eye. I continue what I'm doing, expecting him to say something to get my attention, but he just starts helping me. Together, we get the two couches and single loveseat converted within a few minutes. Staying silent, I head over to the closet and extract three sets of sheets and three blankets. I hope that if I don't say anything he'll keep helping because even though I hate to admit it, it's nice to have some help. I don't know what I'll do when I don't see him anymore and when my belly swells to the point where I have trouble getting around. I don't want to think about it.

Pushing the thought from my mind, I sort through sheets and put two sets on the coffee table as I start putting one on a bed. Yet again, Tobias silently joins me taking the other corner and stretching it over. We finish all three in silence, and I smile to thank him. He gives a small half smile, and I walk over to him, wrapping my arms around him. It takes a moment, but when he does wrap his arms around my small frame, I am filled with warm. I find the perfect place in his chest to nestle my head and then stay there for a while. We sway and his hand caresses my hair delicately. I could stay in this moment forever. Finally, I force myself to let go and back away.

"Thank you," I whisper, smiling, as I retreat into my room. He just smiles back.


	4. Chapter 4

I wake up to light pouring in through the window and the murmur of people talking outside my door. I sit up and admire the beautiful white snow and sunny sky outside as the smell of vomit and sweat drifts up to my nose. Gagging a little, I become aware of the drool stain on my pillow case and sweat causing my shorts and tank top to stick to me. With my senses, my memory floods back in and I remember waking up early this morning and running into my bathroom and puking. There was barely anything in me to puke up, so most of it was rancid fluid that burned in my throat. I was too groggy from sleep to even consider rinsing my mouth, so I'd just gone right back to bed. I decide that I should probably rejoin my guests and make something for breakfast. The slight nauseous feeling of hunger mixes with my already nauseous feeling and motivates me to get up and make food. I head into the bathroom and brush my teeth before quickly cleaning the toilet as not everything got washed out when I flushed my refuse this morning. Wiping the excess moisture from my hands after washing them, I head out into the living area where I find all my guests laying on the various pullout beds and talking amongst themselves.

"Is French toast alright with everyone for breakfast?" My voice is slightly raspy, but at least my breath isn't making me gag anymore. I'd run a comb through my hair and changed into different shorts and a loose t-shirt so my voice is the only current problem, other than that I'm pregnant. The mumbles of yes in deeper morning voices barely register in my mind, but when they finally do, I head over to the kitchen and start preparing breakfast. The bread sizzles in the pan as I stare at it, in a daze. For whatever reason I can't seem to stay focused this morning. My eyes still see everything, but it's blurry and I don't actually process what I see until minutes later, when my mind becomes unoccupied. I grab the remote and turn on the news after flipping the French toast and preparing another piece. They are currently talking about some airplane crash in Southeast Asia. It goes to commercial. The commercial depicts a man and woman, holding hands in a hospital. Next it goes to the same to people, but the woman is giving birth, and then it shows them strapping the baby in for the ride home in a particular car. That's yet another thing that stresses me out and makes me thing I should give the child up for adoption, or have an abortion. But I'm not heartless enough, and some little part of me, deep down inside, wants this kid. All through my younger childhood days, I was jealous when I saw young couples walking through the mall or grocery store with their smiling little baby. I wanted that. I wanted that perfect life where I would grow up, go to college, get a job, get married, and have children. The heavy feeling returns to my chest and I gulp to attempt to get rid of the bouncy ball-sized lump in my throat. I turn around and remove the piece of French toast-slightly overdone on one side-and replace it. The familiar voices of news anchors returns on my TV and I spin around. They switch over to another camera where a woman points to a cold front moving into New York. Luckily, I don't see any more snow in the forecast, but still, temperatures are way below freezing, meaning that the snow isn't going anywhere. They switch back over and the man anchor makes some kind of remark about the travel ban causing him to have to walk to and from work, and I'm glad I don't work on Fridays at this current job. At my next job, I will be working every day of the week and occasionally might have to come in during evenings, but I suppose I won't be working that for long, since at some point I'll need to go on maternity leave. Then again, I will be in a hospital.

I finish making the French toast and set a few pieces on each plate, sprinkling powdered sugar on them. On a large plate, I put extra pieces and put them in the middle of the dining table with the syrup and powdered sugar. I put the plates, forks, and napkins out and head toward the living room. My stomach starts growling on the way, and absent mindedly, I find myself putting my hand to my stomach. I quickly drop the hand back to my side, but feel exposed and awkward so I latch both of my hands in front of me.

"Breakfast is ready," I say, my voice coming out as a sort of croak. This attempt as speaking makes me realize that my throat is raw and swollen feeling. I must be getting sick. Great, pregnant, sick, and starting a new job next week. My life is going wonderfully.

"Are you ok, Tris?" Shauna asks, following everybody else toward the kitchen. "You sound like you're sick, but you seemed fine last night."

"Yeah, I think I'm getting a cold or something." I thank God that I was more understandable and my voice was just kind of raspy that time. Shauna nods in understanding and moves ahead, taking a seat between Marlene and Zeke at my table. Tobias and Christina sit at either end of the table, everyone else filling the seats between. They fill up the table perfectly with Dr. Eaton added to the group, so I have a seat at the barstool and start on my one piece of French toast. I hope nobody offers to sit next to me since I'm alone, because I made it through last night without them asking about my not drinking wine with them, or eating much, but I have a feeling that this will put it over the edge. I keep my head down as I eat slowly, and take long breaks to sip water. My doctor suggests that I have water before and during every meal to help with digestion. Like I said, my stomach is small, and it can't take much but I still have to eat a lot to keep my energy up and to keep from getting too hungry. If I drink water, I digest faster, and can usually eat a little more so I can go longer without eating. I hope my eating often doesn't interfere with my next job, or with the pregnancy. The eating I know will increase to accommodate for two, but I'm worried that my stomach won't be able to handle all of it, and I already know that my hips and small figure will have trouble making room for a small person as well as my organs. My eyes fill with tears at the thought of my unborn child dying because I couldn't accommodate it. At the same time, it would almost be a relief. I wouldn't have to worry about any of it; finding a babysitter, someone to do my job while I'm on maternity leave, buying a car since I can't carry the child everywhere, explaining to everyone that I conceived the child through rape, that I don't know who the father is. I take a deep breath and imagine myself closing the flood gates under my eyes, willing the tears to dry.

Once I've finally finished my breakfast, I gather my plate as well as everyone else's as anyone who had seconds to their two pieces has already accomplished that within the time of me eating one, and begin rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher. Tobias, ever the gentleman, gathers all the cups and forks and brings them over, piling them up next to the sink and then taking the wash cloth to scrub the table. I finish rinsing everything and walk over, resting on the back of Marlene's chair. For whatever reason, I become irrationally worried that the chair will collapse under the weight of both of us, and put one arm on Shauna's chair for stability. Everyone falls silent as I look them over. I become immensely uncomfortable, and put my head down. Christina comes to my rescue by asking the very question I was planning on asking until I was bombarded with the eyes of everyone.

"So, what are we going to do today?" I think about things that I might possibly need to do, and conclude that grocery shopping and stopping at the pharmacy for my prescription are a must.

"Would you guys be against going to the grocery store and pharmacy with me? I need to get some more food and my prescription and both places are only a block or two down from here."

"I wouldn't mind going, but I'm not really dressed for walking about in below zero weather," Shauna points out. She has a good point-Manhattan has reached a new record by dipping into the single negatives-but luckily, I keep extra clothes in my hallway closet from when I made my own clothing line for a class in college.

"Hang on," I say to them, a small smile working its way onto my face. I head over to the closet and extract the large woven basket full of clothes. My back aches slightly, but enough to where when heave the basket up and plop it on the table, a small groan escapes me. A few confused stares meet my gaze after that, but luckily, no one questions it.

"I minored in fashion in college for a year, and for the finals in one class I had to group up with a few people and make a whole clothing line for whichever season we chose, and luckily my group went with winter. I have jackets, long underwear, gloves, hats, scarves, thermal jeans, sweaters, and snow boots. Christina, what size shoe do you wear?" The smile on my face grows as she replies with her shoe size, eight. I pull out a pair of purple and black snow boots with fur on the inside, size eight, and hand them over to her. I do the same for everyone, Tobias, Zeke, and Dr. Eaton receiving blue and black boots, Will and Uriah getting green and black. Shauna and Marlene both get pink and black ones. After that I distribute fleece jackets to match each person's boots, and everyone receives the same grey sweatshirt in various sizes that says Columbia University in blue letters, the college I went to. Shauna points out how we went to the same college and never even saw each other, to which I laugh and say "yeah" almost awkwardly. After that I give each girl a pair of plain leggings to wear under their jeans, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The boys also receive a pair of thermal jeans and wool socks, specially created to not be itchy, but just as warm.

I leave all the boys to change in the spare bedroom and take the girls to my room. The ones who hadn't been there earlier-everyone except Christina-are in awe as they look over the room and in my closet. The bed frame is four-posted and white, while the quilted comforter is PINK brand, mint green with the word PINK in white, and the other side grey with white pattern, the sheets and pillow covers matching the mint green side. The sham pillows matched the grey side, and a few were plain white with different witty comments on them like "Queen of Fucking Everything" or "I had a late night". My storage bins filled with college books and CDs matched the grey pattern of my bed and had the word PINK in bold pink letters. Pictures litter the top of my plain white nightstand; cheer and volleyball pictures from high school, a picture of my mom and dad together, of my mom holding me as a baby, and of my favorite college professor and I after graduation. The sudden influx of memories makes the weight in my chest that's there almost all the time grow tremendously, so I head into my closet. It's a walk-in with racks for hanging clothes, a bench to sit, racks for shoes, and clear drawers for bras, underwear, shorts, and other miscellaneous items I don't hang. I pick out a pair of plain leggings and a pair of jeans and slip them both on. The jeans, I find, will button but squeeze me tightly. I let out a deep sigh and reach for a pair of yoga pants with a floral waistband. On top, I wear a white undershirt with a pink sweatshirt to match the waistband of my pants, and a white fleece jacket over. When I reenter my room, Shauna is pulling on boots, as is Christina, and Marlene is fully dressed and back to exploring. I stoop down to grab my gloves from one of the storage bins, and find it slightly difficult. My stomach no longer folds over to let me bend down, so I have to squat. My girth is also surprisingly heavy, but not too hard to manage. I lose my balance for a moment and fall back, but catch myself with my arm just in time. This gets the others' attention and I cringe; they're going to either figure it out soon, or I'll have to tell them. After all, it won't be too long before my stomach is way too large to be blamed on overeating and sudden weight gain. Then again, I might never see them again after this little episode is over. I'm not sure whether that's a relief or not. In my head, I know it's not right for me to be this far into anthrophobia, to where I don't want to be around people at all, but I can't help it. I suppose if I'm going to try to raise a child, I have to start doing what Dr. Eaton says and make friends. Who better than these people?

I scoot over to the bed just in case when I attempt to get up I might lose my balance, but I don't, luckily.

"I'll explain later," I say, seeing their ever confused faces. I slip a pair of fuzzy socks on followed by my North Face snow boots and gloves. Looking around, I find that we're all ready, so I open the door and let them file out in front of me. Before I leave the room, I grab my phone and stuff it into my jacket pocket along with my keys and wallet.


	5. Chapter 5

We walk down the street, Christina playing music from her phone. She plays a song called Marvin Gaye by Charlie Puth and Meghan Trainor that I surprisingly like. Kurt Cobain would frown upon this, I whisper to myself. Next comes a song called Black Magic by Little Mix, some kind of girl band. I'm not really updated on music since I don't have a car so I don't ever hear radio, and I tend to listen to the same old CDs that I've had for years if at all. Christina and Marlene do not approve of my lack of modern pop knowledge, but I laugh at them for being so serious about it. Tobias convinces Christina to shut off the music when we reach the grocery store, which I'm thankful for. This is the store I normally go to and I get enough stares being alone and everything, so I don't need more with her partying and dancing her way through the store while blaring Teen Pop radio.

The grocery store trip is a long and painful one. I bought enough food to last a couple months for just me, and enough for all of us for two weeks. I know they surely won't be here for another two weeks, let alone the rest of the week, so I'm not entirely sure why I bought this much. I guess I was just being optimistic. Even through those awkward moments and painfully quiet moments, I enjoy my time with these people immensely. As we exit the store, I snake one earbud-I found my earbuds in my jacket pocket-into an ear and play Something In The Way by Nirvana. It's kind of depressing music, but I love Nirvana, so I just listen to it anyway. That's probably part of the reason why I'm always in a kind of mood. Oh well.

The trip through the pharmacy is quick and painless, though I am begged to buy a few bottles of wine for the group. I'm a pushover, so it doesn't take them much begging to get the wine of their choosing. We leave with three bottles of wine and my prescription, and I'm ready to go and sit down for several hours. Also, after reading the directions and warnings on my prescription, I realize that I need to make a doctor's appointment. I need to make appointments for ultrasounds and such, as well as make sure that I can still take my current anti-depression medication. It says in the warnings to check with your doctor about taking the prescription while pregnant or nursing. I really hope there's no problem with me taking it while pregnant since I've been taking it the whole time so far. Surely there's nothing terribly bad about it since I'm still pregnant. I break from my thoughts to look around. We're all standing around outside the pharmacy doing absolutely nothing.

"Do you guys want to go out for lunch?" I make the suggestion, already fully aware of why I'm doing it. I'm going to tell them I'm pregnant, and all that other baggage that goes along with it. A few murmurs and nods of the head confirm that we're eating out.

"Tris, I'd love to, but I've just been informed that one of my patients had some sort of medical emergency and I really should go see them in the hospital. I'm terribly sorry." Dr. Eaton knows what I'm doing, and he knows to go now. I silently thank him with a smile.

"No problem; see you later." He smiles back and heads off after hugging Tobias and waving to the rest of the group. I bite my lip, looking around as I think about what place would be best to go to with everyone right now. Obviously it shouldn't be somewhere with many people since I'm going to spill a lot to my new friends, and I don't think I can stand to be upright for much longer. My back and feet ache from having to withstand a newer, larger weight and lots of work for when I usually would've been sitting on the couch reading or watching TV and sleep the whole time instead of moving about and socializing. After running through a repertoire of places in my knowledge, I pick an Italian place I've been to a few times, as I know the owners. The woman that runs it with her family worked with my mother before opening the restaurant, and they were good friends. I run the idea of Italian through the rest of the group, to which they all agree, and we head out.

The restaurant has one other couple and a group of three that seems to be too loud to notice anyone else there, so we go ahead and take our seat.

"Tris, I haven't seen you in ages!" Alayna greets me before we sit down, having come out to see the apparent large group that had come to eat.

"I know it's so good to see you, Alayna!" She smiles and kisses both of my cheeks before retreating to the kitchen. The waiter returns and takes our drink orders, bringing them to us almost immediately. Everyone looks amongst each other, anticipating conversation. With a deep breath, I decide that now is the time. If I put it off any longer, I won't be able to do it and end forever alone with a child I can't take care of. My excessive breathing attracts the attention of the group and all eyes are on me now.

"So, girls, you know earlier when I said I would explain later?" They give confused nods, brows furrowed in concentration on what will soon escape my quivering lips. "Well as you've surely noticed, I've been struggling a little bit lately with…many things." I close my eyes and know that it's now or never. "I'm pregnant." Eyebrows raise, heads cock, and faces fall. I look about them, on the verge of tears, and notice specifically that Tobias looks mad. I bring my hands to my face and let out a small sniffle as a few tears worm their way over my eyelids. Christina scoots closer to me on my left and puts and arm over my shoulder, whispering soothing little nothings in my ear. The waiter pushes out of the kitchen door and starts toward our table, but quickly turns and heads right back inside. I look down, only to look back up when Tobias stands up from the table quickly and goes toward the bathroom. Just as he turns into the door, he looks back and I see his truly angry expression, what's he so upset about? He's not the pregnant one. Zeke looks around confusedly and finally lets out the question I'm sure they've all been holding in their minds.

"Whose baby is it?"

A small sob escapes me as I release what will show them to the truth, "I don't know." Uriah opens his mouth with a 'what the hell do you mean' look but quickly closes it when Marlene smacks him on the arm.

Christina speaks up again, "What do you mean? Have you been…busy with multiple guys or something and don't know when it was conceived?"

I shake my head as my eyelids become the cliff of the waterfall, "I was…raped. Three months ago a man took me in an alley when I was heading home from the grocery store and…" Marlene makes a worried sort of noise and scoots over to my right side and puts her arm around me. Now encased in arms, soothing words, and tears, I suggest that we get takeout and go back to my apartment. Uriah heads over to place orders for us and Zeke goes to the bathroom, from which Tobias has not returned. Christina pulls a small package of tissues from her purse and I smile gratefully.

Tobias' POV

I pace the bathroom, anger filling my head. I repeatedly clench and unclench my fists until the anger takes over and I punch one of the stalls. And to think I was falling in love with her. I thought she was the shy and reserved girl my father described her as. The girl she looked and acted like, but no. She turned out like all the others, a slut with no consideration for the consequences of her actions. I lean over the sink and look in the mirror and notice that a vein in my temple is throbbing, popped out like a metal pipe under the skin. Zeke pushes through the bathroom door and gives me an angry look. I shake my head, what's his problem? He leans against the wall and slides down, shaking his head.

"What the hell is your problem, dude? Tris is out there crying because she's pregnant, doesn't know the father, and has nobody and you're being a dick! For what reason, I don't know." I get caught on his words, my mouth hanging open in anticipation of a comeback flying out.

"She doesn't know the father? What do you mean she doesn't know the father?" White hot anger rushes through veins, she's worse than I thought.

"She was raped, you asshole. You're not helping her, either. When you decide to not be a dickhat, we're getting takeout and going back to her place." Zeke rolls his eyes and leaves the bathroom. I stand there, stupefied with a dumb look on my face. She was raped. So much makes sense now. Just last night I told her I would want to hear about her problems when she told me she was ready, but when she tried to tell me I ran away like an idiot, totally oblivious to the big picture. Breaking out of my stance, I splash cold water on my face and dry it quickly, exiting the restroom in a hurry. I see that all the girls and Will are still sitting at the table with Tris, comforting her. I want to tear her away from them and hold her to my chest like last night, whispering soothing words to her, promising that I'll always be there, that I'm sorry for the way I acted. Instead I decide that now is not the time, I'll have to wait for tonight when I can get her alone. A part of me knows that the girls aren't leaving her side until she dies and the other part of me hates to think about her ever dying. Maybe I'll have to pull her aside after we eat or something. Either way, I know that I won't be able to leave her, ever, and she has to know that. I just hope she's willing to let me stay after the dumb things I've done recently, and my lack of ability to express my feelings.


End file.
